


We're Gonna Be Friends

by friendofspiderman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (kind of), Awesome Michelle Jones, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Developing Friendships, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Slow Burn, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendofspiderman/pseuds/friendofspiderman
Summary: "You should hang out with Peter and me after school!" Ned suggests enthusiastically, then looks to Peter for confirmation. There's a beat that MJ’s body fills with nervous tension, and she’s not sure what she wants his answer to be."Yeah." Peter agrees, and MJ’s nerves reveal they’d wanted him to say no, and that she’s not ready, and that she should be finding a way out of this development. "You can come if you want. We're not really doing anything, because we don'thaveanything to do, but...""You're not busy with your internship?" MJ asks without thinking.Peter's face turns grey, and he looks almost haunted."No, I...we just got back." He says quietly.MJ could kick herself.---MJ and Peter adjust to the post-Blip world and navigate new feelings along the way.
Relationships: Brad Davis & Michelle Jones, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker
Comments: 78
Kudos: 86





	1. Back to School, Ring the Bell

**Author's Note:**

> This story spans the gap between Endgame and Far From Home, and the chapters alternate between MJ's POV and Peter's. 
> 
> Fic and chapter titles from "We're Going to Be Friends" by The White Stripes.

MJ's struck by how quickly they’re expected to return to school.

Only one week back from "The Blip," as some are calling it, and her mom’s already received an official phone call, email, and text from Midtown, announcing government authorities have determined that the best cure for the traumatized youth of NYC is an immediate return to their educational institutions.

MJ had muttered under her breath about productivity coming before emotional well-being in a capitalist hellscape, but she'd agreed to attend class on Monday all the same. She doesn't want to make trouble for her mom by asking to be one of the students who opts out.

So MJ's back at Midtown, and it's the strangest first day imaginable. As she walks down the hall to find her new locker, she's met with a swarm of strangers. She doesn't recognize at least two thirds of the students she sees, and those she does recognize have their heads down, as if trying not to draw attention to the fact that they shouldn't really be here—that they’re more or less ghosts haunting the halls of their alma mater.

She's overwhelmed and annoyed, wishing she _had_ opted out to learn from home or whatever until she's "recovered" from being dead for five years/the blink of an eye (she hasn't decided yet which view of the time hurts less).

Then she sees something that makes her feel like a person again.

It's Peter and Ned, standing close together against a row of lockers, seemingly in deep conversation. She's surprised by the amount of relief she feels, and even more surprised by her strong desire to rush over to them for a reunion. She realizes she's missed them terribly, which makes no sense—in her mind's timeline, she's seen them just ten days ago. But she hasn't seen either of them since The Blip, and though she'd used the FindMyFriend website to make sure they'd returned and are alive, her non-functioning phone and the world's deficit of new electronics meant she had no way to get in contact.

She nearly makes a move to approach them, but she notices their red-rimmed eyes and immediately feels intensely shy and a little intrusive. She's friends with them, maybe, but not close enough friends to interrupt what's clearly an incredibly emotional reunion.

Then Peter catches her eye as she's about to walk away. His mouth opens in surprise and then turns into a shaky smile as he makes his way through the crowd to greet her.

She hates that her heart beats faster the closer he moves. The crush she's been harboring is usually easy enough to keep under control, so much so that she's refused to think about it consciously since her resurrection from the dead. But the immense relief written all across his face makes her feel weak. He's looking at her like she's his saving grace, and she should be moving to meet him in the middle, but she's frozen to the ground. 

"MJ," he says once they're close enough to speak, "you're here." She melts, and before she can even think to respond he's pulling her into a tight hug.

He's never hugged her before. That's probably why MJ's heart rate is _still_ managing to increase, and she's panicking that he might be able to feel it when they're this close, and that would be weird and embarrassing and pathetic, so she needs to get her feelings under control immediately, and she _should_ be able to, she's a master at controlling her emotions, but it's not working, and _why isn't it working??_

He breaks away. The embrace was somehow both way too long and not nearly long enough.

"It's so, so good to see you," he says earnestly, smiling at her behind tear-stained cheeks. 

"You too," she says awkwardly, and quickly directs her attention to Ned, who's leaving a short conversation with another classmate to join them. Ned hugs her, too, which is nice.

"Hey, MJ!" He says. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Yeah, thanks. So am I, I guess."

"You should hang out with Peter and me after school!" Ned suggests enthusiastically, then looks to Peter for confirmation. There's a beat that MJ’s body fills with nervous tension, and she’s not sure what she wants his answer to be. 

"Yeah." Peter agrees, and MJ’s nerves reveal they’d wanted him to say no, and that she’s not ready, and that she should be finding a way out of this development. "You can come if you want. We're not really doing anything, because we don't _have_ anything to do, but..."

"You're not busy with your internship?" MJ asks without thinking.

Peter's face turns grey, and he looks almost haunted.

"No, I...we just got back." He says quietly.

MJ could kick herself.

Of course he's not working at his "internship,” no one's seen Spider-Man since The Blip. And even if her growing suspicions about the true nature of his after-school activities are wrong, and the internship at SI _was_ a real thing—Tony Stark is dead.

Of course he's not busy, and of course she's a jerk for asking. She needs to think of the proper words to say to make it right, but she's never been good at that sort of thing. 

"Peter, I..."

The warning bell rings.

"We better get to class," Peter says, and he's heading in a different direction than MJ will be.

"We'll find you at lunch!" Ned calls over his shoulder as he joins Peter.

MJ hurries to her classroom, feeling even more flustered and frustrated than she was at the start of the morning. She hadn't _truly_ expected she would return to school sans crush on Peter Parker, but she’d hoped for it all the same, and yet here she is—overly affected by a hug that she knows he offered as a friend who's glad she's alive, and nothing more.

If she doesn't get her shit under control, this will be the longest school year of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character and relationship tags will be updated as this fic continues! 
> 
> The second chapter will be out this time next week, but after that, new chapters will be posted as time allows. :)


	2. I Can Tell That We are Going to Be Friends

“I mean come on, it’s been two months—where _is_ he??”

Peter keeps his forehead planted firmly on his forearm as Flash continues one of his increasingly frequent complaints about the lack of Spider-Man sightings. He can almost feel Ned about to burst next to him, but like a true Guy in the Chair he stays silent—successfully honoring Peter’s pleading request for fewer shows of Spider-Man defense in public.

“Flash, let it go.” MJ orders, and Peter lifts his head up enough to see her shuffling the AcaDec quiz cards. “We need to start practice.”

“I’m just saying, with Iron Man and Captain America gone, and a bunch of the other Avengers MIA, you’d think New York’s own personal hero would have emerged by now, _unless_ he’s dead, but I have it on good authority from several sources that he returned from the space battle, so he’s clearly just hiding, and we _need_ the guy, so if he wouldn’t mind—”

“ _Flash_ ,” MJ interrupts in an exasperated tone, “you ever think that superheroes are people, too? Maybe he needs to recover or whatever, just—you know what, who cares, we need to start.”

Peter tries to ignore a jubilant look from Ned in favor of confidentiality, as MJ’s just glanced their way—but he feels moved to celebration, too. 

Practice is otherwise uneventful as ever, and Peter finds himself somewhat bored with the drills. He tries his best anyway, wanting to show support for their team captain like she’d just supported him—unknowingly, of course, because she’d _really_ been showing support for Spider-Man—but it was a nice feeling all the same.

After practice wraps up, Ned walks alongside Peter toward the front exit.

“Hey man, listen,” he says under his breath, “Flash doesn’t know what he’s talking about, okay? You don’t have to go out there until you’re ready—”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about this at school anymore,” Peter says, a little weary of Ned’s constant reassurance and support even though he knows that’s not entirely fair.

“I didn’t say the ‘S’ word!” Ned persists. “Anyway, we can talk about it later tonight, if you want, my mom’s fine with you coming over, so—”

“Hey, losers—wait up!”

They turn around as MJ rushes down the hall and falls in step with them.

“You guys have any plans for Christmas break?” She asks.

Peter isn’t accustomed to casual small talk from MJ. Sure, she’d started spending more time with him and Ned before The Blip, actually sitting closer to them at lunch as she reads her books and engaging in conversation every once and a while. And he’s always liked talking to her when she does—she’s not as intimidating as he’d once thought, and her knowledge on literature and history is pretty interesting sometimes. So they’re all friendly enough.

But she hasn’t wanted to be _friend_ friends—at least not as far as he could tell. When Ned invited her to hang out with them after the return from The Blip, she’d blown them off and seemed uninterested overall. After that, things in the post-Blip world got crazy, and he and Ned haven’t tried again since.

“I’m probably going to be helping May with the charity start-up.” Peter responds to her question.

“And I’ll help my family bake all the holiday goodies, I guess.” Ned says. “What about you, MJ?”

“Mainly working on AcaDec stuff.” They’ve reached the front door and she’s turned to face them with purpose. “I actually wanted to ask you guys for a favor before you go.”

“Okay.” Ned says.

“I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but the AcaDec team is kind of a mess.”

They’ve noticed.

Before the reverse of The Blip, there was already a full team in place at Midtown. When the blipped AcaDec kids returned and still wanted to compete, Mr. Harrington had to figure out what to do with all of them. The school didn’t have a budget to support making separate teams for the blipped and the non-blipped, so the AcaDec program, like all of the Midtown’s extracurricular groups, was forced to proceed with an oversized team for the remainder of the schoolyear.

The non-blipped captain of the AcaDec team had been so fed up with the situation that he quit, leaving MJ at the helm again. But the tension between the old and new members was apparent, and camaraderie was lacking.

“It’s not an ideal situation, MJ,” Ned admits, “but you’re doing a great job with everything.”

“Thanks,” MJ nods at him, “but I need to do more. I talked to Mr. Harrington, and he agrees that we should try for some team bonding stuff. So I’m planning a party. For early February, I think. And I want you guys to help me, if…if you have time.”

Peter’s surprised. He definitely doesn’t think of MJ as the “throwing a party” type, but he also knows that she takes her job as team captain very seriously. And she’s right, the team does need to bond a little if they’re ever going to make it to Nationals again. Plus, party planning will be a good distraction from the haze he’s been wading through since the moment he survived the space battle and Mr. Stark… 

“I’m in,” he says, “I can totally help. Ned?”

“Yeah!” Ned answers, sounding a bit surprised by Peter’s instant commitment. “I’d love to help, too.”

“Great,” MJ says with an exhale, “well, my ride’s here, so I should go. But I’ll text you guys.” She heads out the door.

Peter’s filled with an unexpected warmth, thinking of MJ’s deliberate invitation as well as her unintentional encouragement during practice.

He hasn’t been in the mood for hanging out with people besides Ned lately. His inability to suck it up, put on the suit and go be Spider-Man again sits on his mind like a weight, and it’s only made worse when countless classmates, not only Flash, are constantly asking where all the superheroes are. He knows they’re not judging _him_ , at least not intentionally—when they do question where Spider-Man’s gone, they don’t mean to ask it while Spider-Man’s in the room. But even the prospect of the questions continuing outside of school has been too much, so Peter has figured he’s best off sticking with people who know his secret for now.

MJ might be different, though. Based on what she said today, she seems to have an empathy for the surviving heroes that the other students don’t. And if he’s remembering correctly, she’s never been terribly enthused about superheroes anyway—she was definitely not one of the students who fawned over Spider-Man after he saved the AcaDec team at the Washington Monument. He can tell she’s less likely to talk about the Avengers at inopportune moments.

Peter hasn’t wanted new friends, but MJ feels safe, somehow. 

“Maybe he needs to recover,” she’d said, and maybe there’s hope in an outsider’s permission to take the time to be whole again. Maybe Spider-Man’s closer to being recovered than he’d thought. 

He’s ready to spend break helping with MJ’s party, and maybe—if this feeling continues—maybe he’ll get back in the suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up next weekend! I'm trying to stick to a weekly posting schedule for the time being. :)


	3. We Clean Up and Now It's Time to Learn

Peter hasn’t shown up.

The party started at six, and Peter was supposed to be there at five to help set up, but he didn’t show.

It was fine—Ned and MJ set up the food, tables, chairs, and games on their own, and it was fine—they didn’t actually have that much to do, and they got it done half an hour early, so it was _fine_.

But it isn’t fine now, because Peter hasn’t shown up, and it’s nearly nine, and that’s when the party ends.

Ned gave a lame excuse—he said Peter got held up at May’s charity event, and that he was really sorry, and that he’d be there, just a little late.

Well, it’s too late for that.

MJ really shouldn’t be surprised—her party planning committee that began as a mighty trio back in winter break had more often than not dropped down to just her and Ned by early January. Peter was always apologetic when he missed their few planning meetings, or neglected to respond to questions over text, or failed to pick up supplies he’d been tasked with acquiring.

“I’m so sorry, MJ,” he’d say, “I promise I’ll make it up to you”—and then he never did. 

But she couldn’t stay mad at him over any of it, because around the time Peter turned back into a flake, Spider-Man returned to the neighborhoods of Queens. The media was all over it; reporters positively thrilled to be broadcasting some good news to the locals of NYC. Spider-Man made the news for just about anything—rescuing someone’s cat off the fire escape, stopping car thieves, helping kids cross the street, catching suspicious Uber drivers—he couldn’t have stayed out of the spotlight even if he wanted to.

MJ programmed her news app to alert her every time there’s a Spider-Man story, and more often than not, Peter’s absences line up with the hero’s good deeds.

The coincidences are piling much too tall for her theory to be incorrect—she’s more convinced than ever that Peter Parker, Junior at Midtown High, is a super-spider in spandex.

She figures she shouldn’t be pissed at a guy who’s likely to be out reuniting an old lady with her lost dog at this very moment.

She _shouldn’t_ be pissed.

But she still is.

MJ tries to shift her focus from Peter to how well the night is going. The party’s been successful enough, as far as highly planned, school-sanctioned, and awkwardly chaperoned gatherings go. Mr. Harrington had managed to find money in the budget for the _good_ pizza, for starters—so there were no complaints about the menu. The “team building” games suggested by Mr. Harrington and tweaked by herself and Ned to be less cheesy were actually fun. And overall, there’s much more mingling between old and new AcaDec team members than she’d ever dared to hope for.

So she hasn’t let the lack of Peter ruin her night—she even finds time to make a few new connections herself. As the clock pushes nine, she’s talking with Zoha and Brad, two of the non-blipped students who she’s enjoyed working with during practice but has yet to really get to know. Zoha’s AcaDec specialties are math and science, and Brad’s are economics and literature.

“This was a fun get-together.” Zoha says, looking around the room at their other teammates mingling. “And you’re doing a really great job leading us, Michelle.”

“Oh, thanks—and you can just call me MJ. I know Mr. Harrington still calls me Michelle, but my friends call me MJ now.” 

“A ‘return-from-Blip’ rebranding?” Brad asks.

“No, it was actually about a year before The Blip.” MJ says. “Just takes a while to catch on with the people who weren’t missing for five years, I guess.”

She’s talking about surface-level issues of The Blip freely, now—has been for a month or two. At first, it was hard to even reference the disaster. Acknowledging that her mom and older sister had stayed on earth while she and her dad were presumed dead for five years was painful enough, and she didn’t want to ponder the intricacies of living in a post-Blip world while she was wading through her family’s struggles. But she quickly learned that talking about the oddities of the earth’s two separate timelines for two separate populations was one of the only ways to connect with the non-blipped crowd.

At school, engaging with students who hadn’t blipped had been especially difficult and awkward, since she remembered some of them as the younger siblings of her old classmates. Some of those classmates had grown up on the same, normal, non-blipped timeline as their siblings, while others—like Jason—had blipped back into existence only to find their little brother or sister a head taller than them and already in college.

Brad’s one of these shockingly tall younger siblings who was a little kid just five months ago. It’s a lot to take in.

“Well, then, you’re fearless captain MJ to me.” He says warmly.

“Thanks.” She says, but her attention’s quickly stolen by the sudden entrance of Peter Parker.

He catches her eye from the door and waves sheepishly. She offers a two-fingered salute in response and tries to conceal she’s fuming inside. 

“Oh, there he is,” Zoha says, “Ned told me Peter was supposed to be helping you with the party.”

“He was,” MJ says, “but something came up I guess.”

“Again?” Brad asks, crossing his arms. “Was that dude always this flaky before The Blip?”

Something stirs in MJ’s chest—the desire to defend Peter for his flakiness, she realizes—but it disappears quick as it came.

“He…” She gives in to the pissed-off part of her brain. “Yeah, actually. He has always been this flaky.” She stands up. “Nice talking to you guys, I gotta go.”

Mr. Harrington makes an announcement just as she’s about to cross over to Peter.

“Well everyone,” he says, “as chaperone of this shindig, I’m sorry to announce that the party’s over. Looks like a bunch of your rides are here, so—let’s clear out.”

MJ says her polite goodbyes as students file out slowly, reminding some of upcoming practices and sharing her number with others. Ned has to be home and Mr. Harrington’s corralling everyone to the side entrance, leaving just her and Peter in the room.

Some uncomfortable seconds pass as she begins stacking chairs, not engaging with him. He does the same on the other end of the room, but she can feel his eyes on her.

“MJ?”

He approaches when she doesn’t respond right away. 

“MJ, I’m really, really sorry. I was going to be here, I _was_ —it’s just—”

“Don’t worry about it.” She says, a little more coldly than she intended. “It’s fine.”

She continues stacking chairs as he fidgets with the sleeves of his sweater. “Are you going to help?” She asks, and he snaps straight to work.

“Yes, I’m staying to help, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I—I’m just so sorry, MJ. Really. I didn’t think I’d have to miss, it’s just—”

“Your aunt needed help,” MJ says, “it’s fine. Seems like you two are running that charity by yourselves.”

“No,” Peter’s about to move an unreasonably heavy stack of five chairs but quickly drops down to three when he sees her looking at him, “no, there are a lot of people involved, I just, um—she needed help with tech stuff. They don’t have an IT person right now.”

“Got it.”

For all she knows, he could be telling the truth—her news app hasn’t notified her about Spider-Man tonight—but it doesn’t really matter.

“MJ, it’s super not cool of me to miss this on top of missing everything else, and I just…um…I need to tell you that…”

She pauses her stacking for a moment, her heart beating faster as she gives him her full attention.

“…just that you deserve better, and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh.” She shrugs off shattered hopes. “I do—I mean, it’s all good, don’t worry. You’re fine.”

Mr. Harrington returns with a failed dad joke and a trash bag for the empty pizza boxes, and they spend the next ten minutes cleaning up in awkward silence.

MJ doesn’t know what she was expecting. Did she really think Peter was going to fess up and reveal his secret? She’s pretty sure Ned’s the only one at school who knows the truth about whatever’s up with his best friend. If Peter _is_ Spider-Man, she has no reason to believe he would trust her with that information when they’re barely even friendly.

The disappointment that sits in her chest is unwarranted, but it’s still there.

MJ resolves to shift her mindset. She’s done trying to be close friends, and she’s done entertaining this crush. Getting to know a secretive superhero is clearly impossible, and she’s annoyed with herself for wanting it for so long. She has enough on her plate this year with her captain duties and SAT prep—it’s time to stop thinking about a cute boy and start focusing back in on leading and learning.

Once the room is set and she and Peter say their rocky goodbyes, she waits for her mom at the side entrance.

Her phone vibrates and she opens a text:

_Hey, MJ! It’s Brad Davis. You know how I was talking about the new exhibit of Blip-inspired art at MoMA? Me and a group of friends are going on Sunday—do you want to come with us?_

She hesitates only a moment before responding.

_Hey, Brad—I’ll be there for sure. lmk where to meet and when._


	4. Silly Thoughts Run Through My Head

“So Peter, I’ve been thinking.” Ned’s lounging on Peter’s bed, connecting pieces of a life-sized LEGO Yoda as Peter assembles another section on the floor. “As Guy in the Chair, we need to work out a secrecy system—one that will fool people if they suspect you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter sorts through pieces of Yoda’s lightsaber. “Does somebody suspect I’m Spider-Man?”

“Not that I know of, but it could come up. Like when Mr. Harrington asks where you are, and I panic, my excuses aren’t always the best.”

Peter recalls Ned’s most egregious lie—that he missed practice due to a new zit—and decides it’s probably a good thing Ned is owning his weaknesses.

“True.” He says. “So you’re suggesting we come up with better excuses for you to use?”

“That,” Ned grabs his laptop from the nightstand, “ _and_ , my latest superhero friend stroke of genius—a responsive device that uses your voice to fool people when you’re MIA. If anyone ever suspects that you’re Spider-Man while you’re fighting crime, I can just ‘call’ you and play recorded bits of your voice and prove them wrong.”

“Sounds…unnecessary. What are the odds that’s ever going to happen?”

“It happened a few months ago!” Ned says. “MJ called me while you were being Spider-Man because you weren’t answering your phone. She needed to talk to you and she knew we were hanging out that day. I had to cover for you, and I thought if I had your voice and pretended you were there, I would’ve been so much more convincing.”

Peter still feels guilty for failing to help MJ with last month’s AcaDec party. He wanted to get to know her, and he blew it. She hasn’t talked much with him ever since.

“So…are you saying MJ suspects something?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, but she’s pretty observant. She always used to watch you leave when you ditched.”

“She did?” He hadn’t noticed. “Why’d she be doing that if she doesn’t suspect anything?”

“I don’t know, man, maybe she likes you.”

Peter can’t respond to that. It’s something he’s never considered before, and it feels like a definite impossibility—and if it’s not, he doesn’t know _how_ he would feel.

“Can you just let me record you saying some typical phrases?” Ned asks. “For a prototype?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They get to work on the ridiculous project, Peter feeling like an idiot as he repeats Ned’s ‘common’ phrases and greetings. Ned saves the recordings to his laptop.

“Okay, Peter, last one. Say, ‘Are you seeing what Spider-Man’s doing on the news right now? Crazy, right?’”

Peter shakes his head. “I’m not saying that, Ned. I think I’m done for now, okay?”

“Okay, man, sure.” He’s silent for a moment. “Hey, speaking of…are you alright after that newscast?”

A special had aired the day before, honoring the six month anniversary of the Avengers reversing the Blip. In addition to a lengthy story about the superheroes triumphing in the face of adversity, the report had included a long memorial segment for Tony.

“I’m fine.” Peter says before any memories can flood in. “The report was nice.”

Truthfully, he hasn’t seen it. He’d purposefully gone on patrol to avoid the broadcast.

Ned doesn’t respond right away, and Peter can feel his eyes on him as he continues building.

“Peter,” he treads carefully, “have you talked about the space battle stuff with anyone yet? Because I think that maybe—”

“I don’t need to talk to anyone, Ned.” He pointedly clicks LEGO into place. “It’s fine.”

Ned pauses again. “It’s just that…six months is a long time to be holding onto stuff, so—”

“Ned _please_ , let this go. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, it’s just—maybe it would be good to be _better_ than fine, you know? I get that you don’t want to talk to me, that’s cool, but maybe if you went to someone who could give an outside perspective—”

“We don’t have the money for that. And I can’t tell an outsider I’ve been to space on a super mission anyway, so.”

“Right. But do the Avengers people have any way to help you out? Superhero therapists or something? I mean you’re an Avenger—”

“ _Ned_.”

The conversation is exhausting. He doesn’t need this right now. It’s the third time Ned’s brought it up, but it feels like the hundredth.

Peter doesn’t want to think about it— _any_ of it.

He has to get rid of Ned’s pitying look.

“I don’t need to talk about stuff because I’ve worked it out with Karen.”

Ned’s eyebrows raise. “Oh? Really?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, “turns out she’s been programmed to work through some crap with superheroes, so it’s like, built-in therapy in a suit or whatever.”

It’s a pretty good lie, and Ned buys it.

“Wow, that’s awesome. Mr. Stark really thought of everything, huh?”

There’s a weight in Peter’s chest.

“Yep.”

Mercifully, Ned’s phone rings before he can say anything else.

“It’s MJ!” He says gleefully. “We can try out the device!” He puts the call on speaker. 

“Hey, Ned.” MJ says. “Is now still an okay time to talk about the AcaDec lineups?”

“Hey,” Ned grins as he answers, “mind if I call you back in ten minutes or so? I’m studying at Peter’s right now but I was just about to leave.”

“Oh, sure. Tell him hi, I guess.”

Ned pulls up the recordings on his laptop. “Hang on, he wants to say hi back—I’ll put you on speaker!” He winks at Peter before silently clicking one of the greetings.

“Hey, MJ.” Peter hears his voice say. Ned makes another selection, and then— “What’s up?”

“Not much.” MJ answers. “Just working on lineups for Nationals. You have any preferences I should know about?”

Ned frantically searches his recordings for a fitting answer for a beat too long, so Peter answers her live.

“No, I’m good with whatever you guys think,” he says, trying not to accept that he suddenly feels nervous talking with her.

“Cool. Hey Ned, just call me back when you’re ready.”

“I will, MJ, thanks.” He ends the call, then turns to Peter. “Dude—I think that went _great_. We can use this, like, all the time!”

Peter shakes his head. “Again, I feel like the chances of someone calling you and wanting to know where I am while I’m out Spider-Man-ing are pretty slim.”

“So what I’m hearing is, there’s a chance.” Ned closes his laptop and shoves it into his backpack. “I’m going to transfer the recordings to my phone and try to make some sort of app out of it. But I do need to go home, it’s getting late.” He heads for the door. “Yoda can stay here, right? And we can work on him tomorrow if you’re not patrolling?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Ned initiates their handshake. It’s become an even more commonplace habit since the Blip, and a comforting link to the world before. “Bye! See you tomorrow.”

Peter sees him out and finds May in the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie.” She motions for him to join her at the table. “You guys have fun?”

“Yeah.” Peter sits. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” May replies, “pretty uneventful. I do have something work-related I want to ask you about, though.”

“What’s up?”

“Well,” she starts, and Peter can already feel the apprehension in her words, “I have a favor to ask—and it’s a big one. So before I do, I want to make it very clear that you are under no obligation to say yes to this. Okay?”

“Okay.” Peter nods. “What’s the favor?”

“You know how the charity is having a hard time getting recognition lately? And how people’s interest in donating time and money has dwindled the further we get from The Blip?”

He nods again.

“Some people on our team thought that if we could get a celebrity involved—kind of like a mascot, to promote the work we’re doing on this next campaign—then maybe we could raise more money.”

“Oh—you mean like Spider-Man?”

“Yeah, I mean—maybe. Just having your picture on our stuff, and maybe popping in for a press conference once or twice. And _only_ if you’re up for it, Peter, there’s no pressure at all to—”

“I’ll do it.” He says without a second thought. “I’d love to help.”

May smiles. “Okay, honey, I’m loving the enthusiasm, but I was _going_ to say that you should take a beat to think about it first. I know you’re busy with studying, and with Spider-Man patrols—”

“No, I for sure have time for this. I’m 100% in.”

He does not for sure have time for this, but he’s jumping at the chance to feel like the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man again.

Peter’s gone back into superhero stuff full-force in the last few months, and things are a little more intense than they were when he first returned to patrolling over Christmas. The switch from neighborly deeds like catching car thieves and scaring off muggers to taking on organized crime was quicker than he’d have liked, and he’s exhausted. His academic and social responsibilities are now near impossible to fulfill, and though it kills him to let MJ and his other friends down, it would kill him even more to let all of Queens down.

And there’s an added layer of stress now. He may have avoided the Avengers Blip-reversal special, but he’s heard the other news reports lately. He’s keenly aware that the local and even _national_ media has expectations for superheroes in the post-Blip world that extend far beyond friendly neighborhood stuff.

He knows he owes it to that world to help as much as he possibly can.

Peter was there, six months ago in his mind, when the Avengers fought Thanos the _first_ time. And he nearly prevented that fateful snap—he had his hands on the gauntlet, and he could’ve done it, he was _so close_ , and he _should’ve_ done it.

If he had, maybe nobody would have had to die in the first place. Not him, not May, not his friends, not half the world—no temporary deaths would have occurred, and no permanent deaths would have followed.

Nobody would have had to form a second Avengers mission that traded superhero lives for a resurrection of 50% of the population.

Nobody would’ve died.

“Peter?”

He blinks and smiles at May. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’m saying this again—there’s no pressure. If you wake up tomorrow and change your mind, you don’t have to be a part of the campaign. Okay?”

“Sure, May.” He stands up. “But I’m still in.”

“Okay.” She studies him as she leans back in her chair. “Did you get enough to eat for dinner?”

“Yeah, but it was a long patrol today, so I’m snackish.” He grabs a bag of goldfish off the counter.

“Oh, hey!” May says. “I almost forgot—I got an email from school today about Prom next month. Are you going to go?”

“Oh.” He pauses before opening the fridge. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

And he really hasn’t. He’s been so busy with Spider-Man and SAT prep, the thought of Prom hasn’t once entered his mind.

“I think you should do it,” May says, “it’s part of the quintessential high school experience.”

“So, the opposite of the high school experience I’ve had.” Peter observes, pouring a glass of chocolate milk.

“All the more reason for you to go. You deserve to be a kid for once.”

“I don’t even have anyone to go with.” He joins her at the table, pouring a handful of crackers into her open hand.

“What about your friend from AcaDec who came here a few times?” 

“MJ?”

“Yeah, MJ! She seems great.”

“She’s cool,” Peter says, “but I’ve heard her say she’ll never go to prom as long as she lives.” He takes a chug of milk and wonders why his insides are flipping inside him.

“That’s too bad,” May finishes the rest of her goldfish and stands up. “She’d make a cute date.” She ruffles his hair on her way out of the room. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, May. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

For the first time in a long time, Peter sits and thinks in silence. Is it the mention of MJ as a potential date that’s making his stomach turn circles? He’d never thought of her as more than a friend before, but now that May’s mentioned it, and Ned’s pointed out that MJ watches him, he wonders if she might be able to see _him_ that way.

If she ever could, he’s surely screwed it up by now. MJ’s been much more sociable at school lately, but not with him—and he knows it’s because he’s never around when he says he’ll be.

He finishes his snack and heads to bed. Between MJ, the Blip-reversal anniversary, May’s request, and the ever-present guilt, there are too many thoughts running through his head—and he’d rather not entertain any of them. He puts in his headphones to listen to music and drown out the inner noise.

The strategy doesn’t work as well as it has over the past few months, and stupid thoughts—mostly ones about a tall, pretty, unaffected girl in a prom dress—threaten to keep him up all night.

When he finally falls asleep, he dreams about Michelle Jones for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting a new job this upcoming week, so the next update might be a bit later than usual!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr! @friendofspidermannedleeds


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